


Wise Men Say

by ohhstark



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 18:59:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12195768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohhstark/pseuds/ohhstark
Summary: He asks her. One night when they’re alone in his rooms above The Hanged Man. When they’re both hunkered down for the night. When they’ve both been downing shots for the past three hours and he’s sure she won’t remember.





	Wise Men Say

She hides her pain well. So well that he almost doesn’t see it. Behind the barbed words and laughter. Behind the too-sharp gaze of her crystalline blue eyes and pretty smirk. Behind everything that is so undeniably _Marian Hawke_. 

And she is good at it. He would know. Since he’s made a career of honing his own deceit. 

And for a long time, this back and forth game of play-pretend is good. Inspired, even. But it isn’t a game for long. It’s more of a cycle, a vicious cycle that never, ever ends. Not when she throws down her cards in exasperation or weariness or he doesn’t know what and calls it a night after he mentions Bianca has written to him. Not when he touches her hand, the briefest tension in her slender hand before she throws him a lascivious wink and the moment passes. Not when she turns after the killing blow of a dragonling and even covered in viscera and mud, she is still beautiful. For a human. 

He’s thick. For a dwarf. For a man. For a living, breathing being. But he isn’t that thick. Of course he figures it out. Of course he catches the longing glances when she thinks he’s not looking and the blush that rushes ruby red from her cheeks to her neck to her chest sometimes. Maybe because misery loves company. Maybe because she’s not as good an actress as she’d like to believe she is. Maybe because he likes to be burned and Hawke? Hawke is all fire. 

So he asks her. One night when they’re alone in his rooms above The Hanged Man. When they’re both hunkered down for the night. When they’ve both been downing shots for the past three hours and he’s sure she won’t remember. 

“Hawke,” he calls from his spot by the fire. It’s cold tonight and since he’s letting Hawke take the bed, well it’s the second best place to be in his rooms. 

“Mm,” she says. It’s muffled like maybe she’s got her head under the blankets. And maybe that’s okay. Better even. 

“Hawke, if I ask you something, do you promise not to make it weird?” There’s a ruffling of cloth and he gets the sense that maybe she’s unburying herself. Perfect. 

“Varric, do you even know me at all?” she says and her voice is as clear as if she was standing right next to him. He glances over his shoulder just to make sure and nearly jumps at the sight of her. Ten feet away and staring at him from his bed. He can admit, to himself, if never to anyone else, that the sight of her sprawled like she is in his sheets is a little more than wonderful. 

“I do,” he says, grinning despite himself. But it’s all wrong. The words, the smile, the hot press of the fire at his side. It’s all wrong and he is nothing if not a coward. _I do know you, and that’s the problem._

“So what am I not making weird?” she asks. He watches her watching him and he can see it now so clearly. It’s that writer’s eye acting up again. He could stand and go to her. Brush her ruffled hair back from those eyes that remind him of the sea, of glass, of home. And he would say something clever. She would retort and he would cut her off mid-sentence. So effectively and thoroughly that they’d stay locked up here for days. 

Yes, he can see it now. And that’s a problem too. 

“I can’t remember,” he says, shaking his head and laughing for effect. He waits a moment. To make sure he isn’t being too obvious. To make sure that he doesn’t tip his hand. Then he turns his back on her before he can start waxing poetic like an idiot. Because Varric Tethras isn’t just a coward, but a liar too.

**Author's Note:**

> So I've loved this pairing for forever and I can't believe it's taken me so long to post anything about them. I'm hoping to post more in this small, but wonderful tag, so let me know if I'm way off the mark. :)


End file.
